


Hostile Hearts

by Emejig16



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 2012 Phan, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Makeup Sex, Masturbation, implied drunk sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 19:04:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13060230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emejig16/pseuds/Emejig16
Summary: Dan and Phil don’t need a break, they just need to talk.





	Hostile Hearts

He doesn’t want to want him like this but he’s dying for skin. To feel his warm embrace drowning him in the ardor he doesn’t deserve but shamefully gives into. The feeling equivalent to that of burning candles dripping hot wax kisses down his neck and shoulder, back arching in the manifestation of heat. He doesn’t know anymore when his lips are on his, a strong hand on the side of his jaw keeping him there as he gazes into the icy blue stare he disappoints on the regular. He doesn’t want to be this way; afraid to capitalize on his infatuation and be honest. He wants to be honest with himself and the only person he wants to hold close to his chest, feeling the death grip he has on his heart.

It’s all too much; there’s so much to grab and kiss. The sound of the heavy breaths and low moans resonating in his ears and fingers as he leans a little closer, etching every last feeling of this moment into his mind. It feels real, it’s so real the way Phil is calling his name and writhing underneath him but then he opens his eyes.

Dan’s legs are sprawled out, his hand covered in cum and barely moving at all, his chest heaving as he regains his bearings in his dark room where he’s all alone. He can feel his back sticking to the sheets and his hair plastered to his damp forehead, but he’s too drained to move. Truthfully, he wants to cry, however he simply sits up and stares at his sticky hand, disgusted with himself. He rubs his hand on his discarded pants before going to take a shower.

“Three am,” Dan mumbles to himself as the hot water runs down his back. He should be sleeping, like he said he was going to when he pushed Phil out of his arms and retreated to his room. Dan backs up slowly, back hitting the cold tile before sliding down to a crouched position.

Don’t cry in the shower. Don’t make this any more pathetic than this already is. Every couple has a falling out; _this wasn’t a falling out_. Maybe they were going to take a break; _they didn’t need a break_. He can feel the tears running down his cheeks and the water turning cold. Get out of the fucking shower and go to bed; not _your_ bed, _his_ bed where you belong.

When he’s finally dressed and somewhat composed he takes himself there slowly. He stops at the kitchen and drinks a glass of water for nearly ten minutes, purely because he doesn’t want to go to him. He doesn’t know what he’s so afraid of, it surely isn’t commitment because they’ve been together for three years.

And shit he’s crying again. His hand shakes as he brings the glass up to his trembling lips, only to watch it slip through his grasp and shatter on the counter. He’s sobbing as he cleans up the glass, accidentally cutting his hand in the process. He should just shut up but he can’t. He’s sitting on the floor holding his hand and crying and crying and–

“Dan?” a soft voice says. Phil looks at the wet counter dripping onto the floor and sees the remaining glass shards. He pays no attention to them as he crouches down over to where Dan is. He places his hands on Dan’s cheeks, seeing his fresh tears and frowns.

“I just wanted a glass of water.” Dan mumbles, showing Phil his bleeding palm. Even in the dim light he knows how pale Phil must have turned at the sight of blood, but still, he gets up to bandage him up. Why he’s so patient with him, he’s not sure. Dan closes his eyes when he feels Phil’s warm hand on his, the stinging burn of antiseptic and the gentle push of some gauze followed by a plaster.

Phil kisses Dan’s forehead with a sad smile, “Go lie down. I’ll clean this up okay?” He watches as Dan slowly pulls himself off of the floor and drags his feet along the carpet till he’s out of sight.

As Phil sweeps up the remaining glass and wipes off the counter he tells himself it won’t always be like this, just for the time being it is. He yawns tiredly as he takes himself back to his room hoping that Dan would be there. He smiles when he sees his door wide open with the light on and Dan lying on his side on his phone. He takes a moment to look at Dan’s tired eyes and messy curly hair. He knows it’s late night now but he’s positive Dan has not had a good night sleep in days.  

“I can still sleep here right?” Dan asks softly, setting down his phone.

“Never said you couldn’t,” Phil says as he closes the door and switches off the light. He gets into bed, listening to the mattress squeak as Dan shifts over to wrap his arms around his waist, claiming him as his little spoon again.

For eight hours things feel whole. Dan’s quiet snore seeps into his dreams and it feels like nothing has changed. There’s no apprehension to be with the other or locked chests but rather a quiet night that drew on until early noon. When Phil wakes, he’s not surprised to find an empty space next to him, but he is surprised when he sees Dan has made coffee and has two mugs set out. Phil knows he feels like shit, so he doesn’t bother asking him how he’s feeling.

“How did you sleep?” Phil asks as he sits at the breakfast bar, last night’s events rushing through his brain and tearing his heart apart. He doesn’t want to tell him but he heard him alone in his room last night. The walls were never thick; his moans and pants easily penetrating Phil’s quiet room. He knows it’s not because he’s not enough; there was a time where all Dan would do was kiss him and touch him, and not treat him like porcelain that he can’t get his fingerprints all over.

“Pretty nice,” Dan confesses as he makes Phil’s mug how he likes it.

“Maybe you should go back to sleeping in my room with me,” Phil says, not meaning for his tone to be as bitter as it is. He watches as Dan’s gaze falls when he slides him his mug. “I’m sorry, it’s your choice and–”

“No you’re right.” Dan states looking at his bandaged hand. He picks up his own mug and sits next to Phil, before Phil moves the two of them to the lounge.

Dan hates that he’s like this. He doesn’t want to be this way towards Phil; he doesn’t deserve it. He’s just stuck; jammed between what he knows for a fact he wants and what he wants people to see when they look or listen to him. They’ve set their mugs down and he slips his hand into Phil’s before resting his head on his shoulder. Phil is running his thumb over his knuckles and he just wants to cry again. He wants to cry into Phil’s chest, feel his arms around him holding him close but it’s much too early in the day to be crying already.

“Dan,” Phil starts softly. “You know I still love you, right?” He sighs when he gets no response from Dan as he shifts closer. “I just thought I’d remind you.”

-

_Five weeks later_

Phil hates to admit it but alcohol is a very dangerous thing for the two of them. He swears he’s not that drunk yet he’s far past the point of being sober. It feels like his hands and fingers have lost all feeling as they play with Dan’s hair. And who is he kidding? He’s completely trashed and on Dan’s lap ignoring all of their problems. He just can’t bring himself to care and sober up but with the way Dan’s arm is around his waist pulling him into him rather than pushing him away is something he can’t deny himself. They’re so close, and he wants to cry because he can’t remember the last time he felt Dan’s nose brush up against his like this before kissing him with love and not his brain.

He supposes Dan thinks too much (he also drinks too much, but so does he). Even as Phil lets go of his hair to rest his hands on his shoulders he feels him tense before relaxing, as if he had just given his system some sort of a shock–hopefully a shock to his senses. He grinds his hips into Dan’s as he kisses him harder, teeth grabbing Dan’s bottom lip.

God, Dan knows he’s missed this so much. He wants his hands full of Phil’s ass, riding him into oblivion, or his mouth in all the right places and fuck he’s so fucking frustrated. It’s been so long since he’s heard Phil’s moans and whimpers, and seen the way his writhes when he plays with his nipples.

And fuck the friction–Phil just keeps pushing his ass all over his as he destroys his neck. He doesn’t even know how he plans on covering that up because their fans would surely be able to see the hickeys and bruises. But Phil has that look in his eyes, and _he’s so fucking horny._

“I want you _so_ bad,” Phil slurs, playing with Dan’s hair again.

“How bad?” Dan teases, squeezing Phil’s bum.

“Bad enough to skip the sex all together and just grind on you till you cum,” Phil replies, grinding his hips in a circular motion.

It really is pathetic when Phil thinks about it next morning. The only time Dan ever wants to have sex with him is when his inhibitions have been lowered to nothing and he doesn’t have the time, nor care, to be apprehensive. They weren’t fuck buddies but they had sex like them. They weren’t supposed to be other’s drunken hookup, but it was next to near impossible to not be.

Sure, masturbating was always good but when you know you can get the real thing and you’re not going to turn to down a sloppy fuck because it was better than nothing. And in a way that his hungover brain wants to justify it, it meant that…that–it didn’t mean anything.  

“Hey Dan,” Phil starts when he sees Dan getting out of bed.

“Yeah?” Dan responds.

“Why do you only ever want to have sex with me when you’re drunk?” Phil asks. He knows the question is a land mine ready to obliterate the very person who has to figure out how to dance around it.

“That’s not true,” Dan says defensively. And it isn’t, there are many times when Dan is perfectly sober when he wants nothing more than to fuck the shit out of Phil, but he refrains. He has to, because if he doesn’t how else is he supposed to distance himself from Phil and clear his head to clearly think about he and Phil. Yet, he had no problem getting piss drunk and throwing all of that moral bull crap out of the window.

“Don’t lie to my face Dan.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Then tell me why you won’t have sex with me sober.”

“Do you really want to know why? Fine, I’ll fucking tell you. It’s because I’m still trying to wrap my head around what we are. I know you’ve heard me say that stupid vague ass fucking phrase about a million and ten times, but I really can’t. How am I supposed to come to terms with it when you’re writhing on the mattress, begging for more. How do I know what’s lust and what’s actual intimacy?” Dan explains.

“Intimacy is when you look at me when you’re fucking me. It’s when you say sweet things, are precise and gentle. When you take your time and you say you love me. That’s when I know that you still care about me. Even when you’re lost in your thoughts.” Phil replies angrily.

Dan opens his mouth to respond but finds he has nothing to say. He walks out of the door without saying anything. Dan locks himself in his room until the late afternoon.

-

_Two weeks later_

The issue with thinking is that he can think himself into believing anything. If Dan thinks he’s hurting Phil then he begins to believe that’s all he’s capable of. It’s a pattern he finds himself cycling in and out of every month. They fight and then they make up for a bit; all is golden and it seems like maybe there are finally patches in their relationship, but then Dan insists on bringing out a stitch breaker and loosening up the seams once again.

If Phil wasn’t so civil he would have punched Dan square in that pretty little mouth of his long ago. Sometimes be cannot believe the bullshit and lies that would spew forth from his mind. He doesn’t know what to do or how to react anymore. The silent treatment was a game they were both prepared to play, and their relationship issues were starting to affect their duo online. When their fans start asking why they are no longer together and can see right through Dan’s lies, there’s a problem. He’s not saying they have to tell their audience about them, but surely they could do a better job at pretending things are okay than they have been doing.

He hates the way Dan mopes around like a helpless puppy because this is as much his fault as it was Phil’s. They were supposed to be a couple, meaning if there was something seriously wrong with them being together they should be able to sit down and talk about it like adults. They weren’t supposed to talk around each other and keep to themselves.

But unfortunately the entire conversation Phil intends to have to address this has been Phil speaking, while Dan sits there with his arms crossed barely giving him anything to work with. He’s desperate for anything, just something to hold them together for just a while longer because truthfully he doesn’t want this to be the end of them.

“I mean, I don’t know Dan. Maybe we need to take a break,” Phil finally manages to say.

“What?” Dan replies with concern. He sits up more, “We don’t need a break!”

“Then what the hell is your problem with us being a couple?” Phil asks, his civility waning.

“There’s nothing wrong, you’re the one who is trying to force it. I told you I’m trying to figure shit out but you refuse to give me any fucking time to be ready,” Dan practically shouts.

“You know Dan, this isn’t easy for me either,” Phil bites back. He doesn’t like to use that tone, especially with Dan, but he’s done watching him play the victim here. “I’m not as comfortable with all of this as you think. I’m still figuring stuff out for myself and where we as a couple fall in with our careers–if we do at all.”

“I’m just not ready.” Dan mutters, walking out of the lounge and to his room where he slams the door.

-

_Three weeks later_

Phil sits in his room watching Dan’s live show; actually he was watching the chat. Dan was talking about upcoming events, answering questions, joking around and just having a good time, but his forced laugh and smile may as well have been a fork scraping a plate. He smiles sadly as he sees many people asking for him to join, but he also sees the frustration in Dan’s face with them.  

He sighs and quits out of _YouNow_ because he isn’t interested in watching the rest and having to listen to Dan snap at their fans and denounce any possible relationship between, platonic or especially a romantic one. Apparently, they are just roommates and friends at best.

The live show is ending soon but he doesn’t want to see it through to the end. He eventually hears Dan saying his goodbyes as he leaves his room to go make dinner.

After Dan finishes his liveshow he sighs. He’d noticed Phil was watching and was quietly glad no one had commented on that, but after his mini state of relief he feels like utter shit. He’s been doing a lot of thinking but this was the first time he’s ever come to anything; he was realizing Phil. The thought was vague, but he could finally see the person he was hurting.

No that sounds wrong, he knew he’d been hurting Phil but he supposes he’d caught himself in the moment. Just knowing Phil could hear him say those lies made his chest tighten. Phil has done so much for him and he repays him by being moody and evasive. Phil didn’t deserve that, and he didn’t even blame Phil for snapping at him all of those times he did.  

As cliche as it is, it was as if he was finally opening the curtains of the room he’d trapped himself in. Slowly, he would begin to dust off what had been forgotten and begin to put together all of the pieces scattered along the floor of his mind. Of course, the first piece he figures he should put together first is Phil; he needed to apologize.

Phil is sort of lost in the chopping and stirring that he fails to take note of Dan’s presence in the kitchen. The monotonous sound of the knife hitting the board is calming in a way. He allows himself to get lost in the repetitive noises, blocking out all other thoughts.

“I saw you watching my liveshow,” Dan says quietly against the hissing sound of the stir-fry.

“Yeah just for a bit,” Phil replies, adding different spices to the pan.

“You’re mad at me,” Dan says, wrapping his arms around Phil’s waist. “Well, because of what I said,” he corrects.

Phil shrugs and continues stirring, “I guess I have to be used to it.”

Dan frowns and kisses Phil’s cheek, “I’m sorry. I’m never fair to you.”

“Why do you actually care all of a sudden?”

“Because, I’ve never realized just how selfish I am and I never remember how I hurt you until you make me see it. In any normal circumstances you’d never raise your voice or get seriously angry, but I’ve been pushing you to that point, and not even feeling sorry about it. I don’t want to keep hurting you. I just–I don’t want to be afraid.”

“Afraid to love me?”

“No, not that. Afraid of what people will say about me loving you. How people will see our content and whether we are just saying we’re together for attention. I don’t want that, and I guess I’m not sure, but I don’t want to take the risk just yet.”

Phil nods, ”I understand.” He sighs, “It just feels like you’re brushing me off, or what I think we still have is something actually had, and long gone.”

Dan leans forward, bringing their lips together into a kiss, smiling himself when he feels Phil smile. It was supposed to be a peck but Phil kept him there, as if this single kiss was making up for all of the missed kisses over the last couple of months. He looks at Phil who was now a light shade of red and flustered.

“It’s still there,” Phil finally whispers with a smile as he turns off the stovetop.

“I’m just not ready for the world to know it.” Dan replies, getting down two plates for them.

“They don’t have to know as long as you’re willing to share it with me,” Phil says as he takes the plates from Dan, their hands accidentally brushing the process.

“Of course I am,” Dan says with a slight blush.

“Then that is more than enough.” Phil says with a grin.

-

_One week later_

The make up sex is phenomenal.

Phil is actually astonished with the way Dan caresses him so tenderly that it feels as if he’s barely touching him with his fingertips. He’s in Dan’s lap, but he’s not riding him. Dan’s hands are hot on his bum, driving him into him. And every time he goes forward, Dan’s right there in front of him, mouth slightly open and forehead shiny.

The grip he has on Dan’s shoulders relaxes when he can no longer figure out where his moves end and where Dan’s thrusts start. All he can hear is the sound of Dan’s voice low and soft in his ear while he whimpers quietly, unable of coherent thought. When Dan slows them down, pulling Phil impossibly closer to his chest, Phil swears he cannot breathe. Their foreheads are touching but he’s too busy staring at his lips.

He looks into Dan’s eyes again and is about to speak but he’s cut off by Dan pushing him onto his back, thrusting his weight up and not just forward, to drill into Phil soft yet hard. He leans forward, kissing Phil passionately as he hooks his arm around Phil’s knee to lift his leg. Dan pulls away and looks as if he wants to say something and can’t. There is absolutely nothing he can and wants to say in this moment. Phil has never looked so much more in love.

-

_Four days later_

“Dan?”

“Yeah?” Dan turns around to face Phil from his place at his desk. He’d just ended his liveshow when Phil came in.

“You said I was your best friend,” Phil says softly, not entirely believing it himself.

Dan blushes and nods. “Well you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written and posted in July of 2015.
> 
> Thank you to maetaurus for betaing this fic.


End file.
